


Ai Laik Yun

by adorablepancreas



Category: The 100 (TV), clexa - Fandom
Genre: Clexa, F/F, fluffy fluff fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-25
Updated: 2016-02-25
Packaged: 2018-05-23 03:49:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6103843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adorablepancreas/pseuds/adorablepancreas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke and Lexa return to Polis after discovering the massacre at Arkadia, and they have a heart to heart. Set post 3X05.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ai Laik Yun

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: I do not own these characters, I just have a lot of feelings about them.

The ride home from Arkadia had been a quiet one, lacking the easy banter and genuine smiles they had shared on their way there before they had come across the fallen army. Clarke had wanted to open her mouth to speak to Lexa many times on the return journey, but she knew her well enough not to. As much as Heda may claim that feelings do not affect her leadership, she had not left the site of the slaughter unaffected. Clarke knew better than to bring up the topic with Lexa’s guards riding behind them within earshot. The Commander would not allow them to see her let her defenses down, something she’s prone to doing when speaking with Clarke. 

So Clarke remained silent, allowing them both space for their thoughts, a gift the sky princess was thankful for because it is one she rarely gets now that her time living solo in the woods has come to an end. Sometimes she misses the freedom she had for those three months after Mount Weather. She was able to just be Clarke. Not the leader of the Sky People, not the Mountain Slayer. She was just a girl, trying to reconcile her past with her present, and her future with both. Solitude allowed her the simplicity to just be.

But now those times are gone. She’s back, she’s Wanheda, she’s the Ambassador, she’s been betrayed by her people, and she feels lost all over again. She must make more difficult decisions, and she must carefully choose where to place her trust and hope it’s not all for naught. It’s enough to make her head spin as she and Lexa enter the gates to Polis and spend a few hours in meetings regarding the events in Arkadia with the Commander’s most trusted advisors.

The one person she knows understands her internal conflict is Lexa, so she doesn’t object when they ascend the tower in Polis to retire for the evening and she feels Lexa’s gentle hand steer her towards the Commander’s bedroom instead of parting ways at the fork in the hall. When they reach the big ornate door, Lexa turns to the two guards that are trailing them and says, “Leave us.” The two men bow and reply “Sha, Heda” before turning around and marching back down the hall to stand post.

Lexa opens the door and allows Clarke to enter first. The room is very large, filled with beautiful, dark furniture including a sofa and an armchair that Clarke thinks look inviting enough to collapse on and sleep for days. The coffee table centered between them is a simple but beautiful one made of wood, and atop it sit about a dozen lit candles, flames flickering and casting darting shadows on stone walls, cracked from age. Clarke thinks the cracks make the walls even more statuesque, and that if she really tried she could hear her heartbeat echo off of them. But she doesn’t try. 

The centerpiece of the room is Lexa’s bed, the largest Clarke has ever seen by far. On the Ark they were limited for space, so single people had small twin bunks for sleeping, and couples shared beds that were larger but not by much. All of the beds folded up into the wall to save space during waking hours.

Lexa’s bed, by contrast, is the most extravagant thing Clarke has ever seen, and Clarke thinks it is more than fitting for the Commander. The headboard is made of a warm-hued wood, and reaches up almost to the ceiling in a beautiful curvature, and the footboard, though stopping much lower, has been carved to match. Clarke has no doubt that this bed was made by Lexa’s people, probably specifically for her, out of love and respect for their Heda. The mattress is covered in beautiful furs that Clarke has the immediate desire to cuddle up in. 

She wonders when the last time someone besides herself or perhaps Titus was allowed in Lexa’s most private space, and she is struck by the thought that Lexa spends most of her nights in this enormous room alone, after a long and thankless day fighting for her people. The idea makes Clarke’s heart ache so she tries to shake it off. 

Clarke finishes surveying the room and turns to Lexa.

“Your room is beautiful. It suits you well.”

“Thank you, Clarke. I hope you don’t mind that I brought you here.”

Clarke shakes her head. “Not at all.”

Lexa nods once in reply. Clarke wants to ask why Lexa wanted her to come, but she remains silent.

“Is there anything that you require this evening? Some more nightclothes, or I could have a handmaiden draw you a bath if you like? I asked Nari to place clean linens on your bed and fresh candles on your nightstand. They should be waiting for you.”

“I think I have all I need, thank you, Lexa. You’ve been more than accommodating.”

Lexa dips her head in another nod, but remains quiet. She turns and strides to the balcony on the far side of the room, and draws the curtains to look out at the night stars that shine down upon Polis. Clarke follows her, gazing up at the sky she used to call home. It feels like ages ago. Time has etched months that seem like years into her skin, and the blood of others is what came pouring out. 

She turns to look at Lexa, taking a moment to notice how the moonlight reflects upon the Commander’s weary but strong face. 

She realizes in an instant why Lexa wanted her company after their official business had ceased for the day. She considers her words for a moment, before asking, “Is there anything I can do for you?”

Lexa pulls her eyes away from her city and turns to Clarke. She doesn’t speak right away, opting to survey Clarke with an expression that the blonde can’t quite read, but at the same time knows all too well. “I am well, Clarke.” She turns her attention back to her sleeping city. 

A beat, during which Clarke makes a decision, and then, “Are you?”

Lexa turns around to face Clarke yet again and the expression in her eyes is at first sharp, as if Clarke has struck a nerve. But once green eyes meet blue her gaze softens again as she says, “Yes. Do not worry about me.”

Clarke shakes her head ever so slightly at the Commander’s stubbornness in the face of emotion. “You’re allowed to feel, Lexa.”

Lexa blows out the smallest of huffs before turning and walking away from the window, back into the room. She stops after several paces and pauses a few moments, whether to consider her words or compose herself, Clarke isn’t sure. Clarke follows, and Lexa turns back around to face her.

“I am Heda, Clarke,” Lexa replies with a flatness to her tone that makes Clarke ache. “I must be strong for my people. You know this.”

“Being strong doesn’t mean denying yourself the chance to grieve those people. Especially in private moments.”

For a few long seconds Lexa is silent; stoic in her demeanor, trying in vain to keep her expression stony. But Clarke sees the conflict in Lexa’s eyes, and in the way the Commander tilts her head up to the ceiling and clenches her jaw, trying to decide what to say around the lump of sadness in her throat.

“Hey,” Clarke says, reaching forward and placing the open palm of her right hand on Lexa’s left cheek. She ghosts her thumb along her cheekbone, and Lexa’s eyes flutter closed; she tilts her head back down and to the side, just slightly, as if leaning into Clarke’s touch. She opens her eyes again and Clarke sees all of Lexa’s pain, readying itself to spill forth. 

“You’re safe with me,” Clarke says, and she wraps her arms around Lexa, pulling her close in a tight hug. Clarke may not be a skilled warrior like the Trikru. She may not emerge victorious from hand-to-hand combat to save Lexa’s life if it ever came down to it. But she can be her safe haven in a world that Clarke knows offers Lexa little room for vulnerability. She hopes that will be enough, for now.

“I’m so tired of war,” Lexa says as she encloses her arms around Clarke’s waist and rests her forehead in the crook of the blonde’s neck. Clarke feels a few silent tears touch her skin.

“I know,” she replies as she slides one hand up and down Lexa’s back, keeping the other wrapped around her, and rests her chin on her shoulder.

Because she does know. Clarke has done nothing but fight since she landed on the ground. The Grounders, the Mountain Men, the Ice Nation, even her own people. She plunged a knife into the boy she loved, she killed innocent people, and she abandoned the SkaiKru to fight her internal battle alone. Whether with knives or with words, she has done nothing but fight for survival for months. 

And she’s sick of it. Clarke feels a barrier crumble as she stands there hugging Lexa, and she knows that she deserves better than just to survive.

Light floods through her veins for the first time in months as she turns her head to the side and presses her lips softly to the base of Lexa’s neck, just inside the dip of her clavicle. She hears a barely audible gasp escape the Commander’s throat, and she feels Lexa stiffen in her arms.

“C—Clarke?” Lexa breathes, enunciating the “k” in Clarke’s name the way the Sky Girl loves. 

Clarke answers with three more slow but chaste kisses, each one firmer and more certain than the last, higher and higher up Lexa’s neck; Lexa shudders and Clarke breathes into her skin before pulling back to look into Lexa’s large, beautiful eyes that could move mountains. She pulls her hands back around and runs her thumbs along Lexa’s cheeks, wiping away the tear tracks she finds there. 

Lexa’s eyes are as expressive as ever. Clarke searches them and finds hope, and fear, and pain, and questions, and, more than anything, deep tenderness and affection. Clarke thinks that Lexa is the gentlest version of herself when she’s looking at her. 

She knows they need to talk, but she can’t stop herself from closing her eyes and leaning forward to leave a feather of a kiss on Lexa’s full lips. It’s just a moment, and it’s barely there, and she feels more than hears Lexa’s breath catch in her throat before it shudders back out like the ghost of a whisper. 

“Clarke,” Lexa says again. “Wait…”

Clarke pulls back, her heart dropping. She swallows hard and closes her eyes. She moved too fast. She knows what Lexa feels for her, but the timing isn’t right. Not mere hours after 300 of the Commander’s soldiers were slaughtered in their sleep by the people they were sent to protect. “I’m sorry,” she says as she pulls her hands away from Lexa’s face.

“Don’t be. I said wait, not stop.”

Clarke opens her eyes again to see Lexa looking at her even more intently than before. The affection has grown, but there’s something darker there too. Clarke could easily get lost in her. She thinks there’s a good chance she already has. 

“Clarke,” Lexa begins, swallowing hard. She pauses for what feels like an eternity. Clarke can see the gears working in Lexa’s mind, the conflict in her heart. “Ai gaf yu in. And I am prepared to give you all of me. But, I was under the impression you still did not feel you could trust me. And we cannot do this,” she says, gesturing between the two of them, “if I haven’t earned your trust.”

Clarke’s heart is bruised when she picks it back up off the floor, but the care in Lexa’s eyes is a balm for the ache. Clarke sighs and feels defeat seep into her bones when she realizes how much it kills her that she let Lexa—hell, let herself—believe for so long that she hated the Commander. That she could never forgive her, or that she didn’t care about her. She owes Lexa an explanation now.

“I was very, very angry, for a long time after what happened at the Mountain,” Clarke begins. “I wanted nothing more than to make you pay for what you did.”

Lexa’s eyes fall as she nods once, and the whispered “I’m sorry” flashes through Clarke’s mind from mere days ago when she held Roan’s knife to Lexa’s neck. 

“Or at least…I desperately wanted to want that. During those months on my own, I tried so hard to despise you. I convinced myself that I wanted you dead. But you were right the other day, when you said I would have made the same choice. I would have saved my people too. I hated how much I wanted to hate you for it, but I couldn’t. It is exactly what I would have done.”

Lexa looks back up and gazes into Clarke with such focused attention and sorrow that Clarke feels pinned to the spot by her eyes. 

Clarke takes a deep breath and lets half of it out in a sigh. “I thought that seeing you again would infuriate me even more. I thought I would spiral into a blind rage. And at first, I did,” she states, remembering spitting in the Commander’s face and threatening her life.

“But over the passing days, you softened me. You showed me such tenderness. No matter how horrible I was to you, or how long I refused to see you, you never wavered in your gentleness.”

“And then during your fight with Roan, I was so afraid for your life. I didn’t want to lose Heda, sure, because my people needed you. But I also didn’t want to lose you, Lexa. I was so relieved when you survived, but I just…there was still something blocking me from letting you in completely. Despite how much I wanted to.”

 

There is a moment’s pause where the only sound Clarke can hear is the two women breathing, and her own heart beating in her ears.

“So what is different today, Clarke? What has changed?” Lexa asks in a voice just above a whisper that shivers down Clarke’s spine and embeds itself into her ribcage.

“Today, we chose peace over revenge. Bellamy and Pike would have deserved what was coming for them had we retaliated, but we took the first step towards ending the bloodshed. And though we’re not without worries ahead of us, I felt relief for the first time since my dad was floated back on the Ark. You brought me the first ounce of peace I’ve had in months. Regardless of what logic tells me I should feel, I know that I’m safer with you than anywhere else. And…I do trust you, Lexa.”

Clarke closes her eyes and lets all of her emotions flood through her. All of the fear, anger, sadness, grief, guilt, and hope she has felt since coming to the ground tangle up together inside of her and melt into the words that come out next; she opens her eyes and gazes into those of the woman in front of her.

“I’m tired of war, too. We’ve lost enough. I’m not going to battle what I feel for you anymore.” She reaches forward and cups Lexa’s cheek once again, brushing her thumb along the other woman’s face where tears have begun to silently trail again.

Clarke leans in once more and feels Lexa’s breath shudder, before closing the distance between them and capturing Lexa’s lips with her own in a kiss that feels like coming home. She feels Lexa kiss her back this time, cautiously at first, before sinking into it like Clarke is a glass and Lexa is wine. Their hands find each other and fingers lace together, while their lips move in tandem with one another gently, languidly. They kiss until they need to break for air, and Clarke is filled with gratitude for the fact that when she breathes Lexa fills her lungs too. She opens her eyes to find her looking at her with such raw fondness, and Clarke senses that if Lexa still believes that love is weakness, then for the first time in her life, the Commander is okay with being weak.

“Lexa,” Clarke sighs as she traces Lexa’s knuckles with her thumbs in the places their hands meet.

“Yes, Clarke?”

“Ai laik yun.”

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: I decided to write this from Clarke's POV because she has so much more to process than Lexa does when it comes to the reconciliation of their feelings for each other. But I would be happy to write a companion piece from Lexa's POV too if people are interested! Thanks for reading :)
> 
> Trigedasleng translations:  
> Sha, Heda= Yes, Commander.  
> Ai gaf yu in=I want you.  
> Ai laik yun=I am yours.


End file.
